Never Lost Just Found
by KLMeri
Summary: FH!verse  AU ; Sequel to A World of Crazy.  Christmas Eve approaches.  K/S/M. - COMPLETE
1. The Dream

**Title**: Never Lost Just Found

**Author**: klmeri

**Fandom**: Star Trek AOS

**Pairing**: Kirk/Spock/McCoy

**Disclaimer**: See A World of Crazy disclaimer. :P

**Summary**: FH!verse (AU); Sequel to _A World of Crazy_; Christmas Eve approaches.

**

* * *

**

**The Dream**

* * *

Leonard is absolutely minding his own business like the quiet kid at the lunch table (literally) when Pike shows up and screws his day all to Hell.

"McCoy, you have a visitor," the man announces.

For once, there is pin-dropping silence in the cafeteria of Fleet Heights. Sulu quits battling Chekov with his (butter)knife-katana (Pavel uses a fork) and Scotty even stops dividing his attention between Keenser and Uhura.

It's a long minute before Leonard remembers to swallow the food in his mouth. The jello slides in a lump down his throat, which promptly causes choking. Jim slapping his back doesn't help like the kid thinks it does.

McCoy manages to snap, "Stop that!" Kirk blinks at him. Then Len addresses the cause of all the bated breaths.

"Me?"

"Yes, McCoy," Pike sounds amused. "She's in my office."

Len cannot help but stare at his supervisor (not that he needs one, he's perfectly sane compared to the rest of the residents) as if the punch-line is about to commence.

Because seriously?

It may be the first Wednesday of the month—Visitor's Day—but Leonard never gets a visitor. Ever.

Not one single day since he was sent to the big city of Atlanta mid-mental breakdown—and no small amount of conniving on his part—for psychiatric surveillance and care. Fleet Heights is a crazy-house, alright, and Leonard has become a fixture of the "Captain's crew." He's almost content some days; of course, that's when Jim, aka Captain Kirk, isn't leading a raid to another Klingon battle cruiser or attempting to squeeze into the shower stall to _wash his Bones' back_. Those days are few, because Jim gets bored easily—seeing as how he's the second sanest patient in this institution. A rather sad state of affairs, in Len's opinion.

"Leonard?" the Admiral questions, because McCoy has gone silent like the rest.

The use of his first name shocks him back to reality and the kind fatherly eyes of Pike. So he slides from the end of the bench and says, "Okay."

Unfortunately, he and Pike aren't going alone because the entire crew clamber to their feet and press right up behind Leonard. Or maybe that's just Jim and Spock—mainly Jim, who likes to plaster himself against his appointed doctor and ask "Do I feel normal, Bones?" in such a lewd manner that McCoy has to snarl and extricate those octopus arms before they become permanently attached.

Pike tells everybody, "This is McCoy's visitor. Finish your lunch."

Captain Kirk doesn't like that order, apparently, because Jim steps right up to his commanding officer (and godfather) to demand, "Who is it?"

Pike's amusement deepens, along with the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes. "Classified, Kirk."

"Doctor McCoy is part of my crew," the Captain reminds the Admiral. "His safety and well-being are my responsibility."

"I doubt this particular woman is a danger to McCoy, Jim."

Kirk crosses his arms and narrows his eyes, unconvinced. Leonard sighs, silently asks the Heavens _why?_ and does the best he can.

He tells Spock, "Your Captain is being illogical. Now, I'm just gonna go on with Pike and you keep Jim here."

Spock is a Vulcan, by choice (which opens up a whole Pandora's box of mental illnesses) and usually the calmest—though craziest—of the bunch. Today must be a bad day because Spock says, "I decline."

Leonard gapes at him. "You decline?" He'll deny later that his voice can be shrill. "Since when do you fucking _decline_ to lord your wise know-how over the rest of us, Spock? _Jesus fucking Christ!_"

Thankfully the Admiral is on the fast track to impatience, because he steers McCoy in front of him by the shoulder and orders the cafeteria loiterers to "Stay."

They march to his office, purposefully ignoring the shuffle parade of slippers in close attendance. Pike turns the corner much too quickly and fairly shoves McCoy into his office. Leonard manages to catch himself from tumbling into a chair or a bookshelf and his brain flashes regret that his entrance isn't less embarrassing. There is the sound of Pike shutting the door with more force than necessary and locking it.

Leonard has a brief moment to think that a measly little lock won't stop Jim Kirk and his band of lunatic crewmen… not in the least. He discards the image of Spock attempting to snap off the doorknob with his "superior Vulcan strength" when a voice says, hesitantly, "Leonard?"

The world tilts marginally. He knows that voice, he… "Christine?"

Christine Chapel rises from a chair with a tentative smile. Her hands are clutching a purse; the woman looks nervous, but her eyes are filled with an emotion that floors Leonard. Relief. Joy.

McCoy clears his throat and tries again to form a coherent sentence. "Chris, you… you're here." Wow, intelligent McCoy. Now she'll think you've not only lost your sanity but your brains as well.

"Yes. I—"

She bites at her bottom lip, just like all those times in the past when she was uncertain of her welcome, back when Joce— Leonard cuts that line of thinking immediately. Bad memories need to stay locked up.

"—I wasn't sure how long before you were… able to have visitors and then with work—"

A smile stretches his face and he interrupts. "You don't need to excuse yourself, darlin'," he tells her. "Thank you for coming to see me."

Her shoulders relax. Pike, with observant eyes on them both, takes a step back. "If you prefer," he offers, "I can give you a moment of privacy."

McCoy shrugs. "It's your call," he says to Christine. "I'd understand if you don't wanna be alone with a madman."

She returns his grin and pats her purse. "I come armed, Doctor, never fear."

Christopher Pike nods once and lets himself out. He calls, somewhat wryly over his shoulder, "I'll tend the flock for you, McCoy."

That means the Admiral will try his best to keep Jim and Spock from barging in to the rescue and scaring the living daylights out of Christine. Lord have mercy on Leonard McCoy's soul. He mumbles a _thank you_ at the closing door.

When Christine reaches out to take his hand, he doesn't hesitate. It's sweet, this touch from an old friend; it's a reminder that he left behind more than despair in his old life. Leonard left all the good things too. He'd forgotten that, somehow, when he shouldn't have.

It makes his heart hurt a little, but Leonard is learning that he is stronger than he thinks. And if Christine fears for her friend, he can at least soothe a worry or two.

They sit down opposite one another, still holding hands. She talks of simple things like how happy she is to see him, asks if he is treated well (Leonard thinks of Dr. Puri and keeps his answers positive). Finally, when they feel comfortable, settle their nerves and any lingering awkwardness, Leonard takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Chris," he says.

She looks startled; no wonder, his change of topic is quite out-of-the-blue.

"I am sorry for… how I left things. I am sorry that I put you through what I did. You are a better friend than I deserve, truly, Christine."

"Oh, Leonard." There are tears in her eyes. "Please don't apologize. It's not your fault!"

She seems at a loss to voice her feelings, and Leonard understands. He really does. He nods and thanks her.

Christine asks, plaintively, "Just tell me that you feel better, Len."

He snorts. "I do, actually. You wouldn't believe the kind of… distractions a—" He skips the word _normal_. "—man can encounter in a mental institution."

She looks curious so Leonard takes great pleasure in leaning back into a slump, like a man settling down for a long tale (which he is). It begins with "There's a kid named James Kirk…"

By the end of the hour, her face is a mixture of disbelief and wonder, and both Leonard and Christine are red-eyed from laughing so hard that they cried.

There is a sharp rap on the door and Len can see the dark color of Pike's jacket through the blinds. Reluctantly Leonard rises and his visitor does the same. She allows him to lead her out of the office and into the hallway. It's suspiciously clear, but Leonard pays that no mind. He focuses on the woman beside him.

They stand still, just looking at one another for what seems like days. His breath hitches and he manages "Chris—"

Chapel pulls him into a bone-crushing hug. He doesn't think about the rest of the world, then; how he's _in here_ and soon she'll be _out there_. He doesn't wallow in the regret that begins to creep up inside or listen to the pounding of his heart. There is only this feeling of being held and holding, wrapping his arms around her back and knowing that the embrace is returned. He presses his cheek to her hair, smells honeysuckle and soap.

Then they let go and Christine kisses him lightly on the mouth. "Goodbye, Len," she says.

It's not really goodbye, he knows in an instant. Christine, this unexpected gift of a friend—of someone who cares when he'd felt resigned to his isolation—will return.

She disappears and minutes pass until Leonard can breathe again. There is light pressure in the middle of his back, a hand uncertain in its touch. "Bones?"

Leonard turns to face Jim and Spock, not a step behind; both sets of eyes are dark, too clear and knowing. He does not bother to wipe the tears from his face, only replies, "I'm okay."

They, unexpectedly, ask no questions—merely follow him in silence to their shared room. Leonard stops in the open doorway, sees the drawn curtains and (mostly) bare walls. He shudders.

Jim digs through the covers piled on the floor, and Spock leads him over to the double bed. It's really two singles pushed together, but Len has grown used to thinking of it as their bed and not just his. (After all, he shares it with both.) Jim pulls out a blanket and Leonard gratefully takes it, wraps up, scoots back against the wall and closes his eyes.

It's no surprise when his two tag-alongs follow, one on either side of him. Jim draws up his knees, like Len, and Spock sits cross-legged. There is a sweet silence only broken by the sound of their breathing. Finally, Len opens his eyes when he feels a hand take his and rub at his knuckles.

On the wall opposite, where Leonard's bed used to be, is a calendar with the current month sloppily circled. It's December and along the second-to-last row is a date that he never forgets is approaching. That might be the smiley face, which now includes a large thumbs-up, but mostly it's what Jim's little ink minion represents.

It is a reminder of a promise and more: a reason (a very good reason) for him to stay here at Fleet Heights. Leonard McCoy is in a bonafide relationship with two fellow patients, both of which are trying very hard to prove that this threesome can work.

He owes them a chance; he owes himself a chance at happiness.

So why, then, does a strange little voice (so quiet but growing) seem unsatisfied?

He feels as if he is waking up from a long dream. It scares him, not just for himself but for the sake of these two sweet men beside him.


	2. The Plan

**The Plan**

* * *

"Jim, I am not a Vulcan mind-reader," Chris says mildly. "You'll have to actually voice your troubles to me."

That gets a hint of a smile from the serious-faced patient, who answers shortly, "Spock's a touch-telepath… not the same thing."

James Kirk is not a child. Pike is sharply reminded of this fact when he watches the man pace back and forth. The hunched shoulders, the flash of narrow blue eyes—even the way Jim flexes his fingers—all of it is so reminiscent of George that nostalgia burns through Pike like wildfire, and the subsequent sense of loss feels fresh and sharply painful.

He tries again to understand what it is that bothers Jim so. "Sit down."

A stubborn shake of that blond head. "_James._" He puts a warning in his tone.

Kirk sighs and spins around, falls into a chair with all the grace of an elephant. When he folds his arms in a pout, Pike revises his assumptions: mentally, Kirk is 15% man and 85% child.

"Bones isn't happy," Jim states.

The nickname is ridiculous. Leonard McCoy accepts it well enough (no fist-fighting like Giotto did over "Cupcake"). "McCoy is clinically depressed."

"He's getting better."

"I know." Nerves twitch in Pike's stomach. McCoy _is_ improving, and it's only a matter of time before the man decides to quit sabotaging his quarterly evaluations—before he decides that he wants better than Fleet Heights. Pike won't blame him, not in the least, but for the sake of his godson (and Leonard's roommate; Chris isn't blind) he is apprehensive about the future.

But what can he do? Jim is a grown man—and capable of rational thought; so is Leonard. If Pike suspected that any part of their relationship was unhealthy or non-consensual, he'd step in. Until that time, he won't interfere in the mutual decision of two adults.

He only hopes that, afterwards, Jim won't shatter completely or retreat again—that he'll allow Pike to hold him together, to help.

"Jim, why are you worried?"

"Was that woman his wife?"

Ah. "You mean his ex-wife."

Kirk shrugs. "Does it matter? I can tell when Bones is thinking about her." The man's voice has a bitter edge.

Pike leans forward, elbows on top of his desk. He steeples his fingers and addresses the real issue. "You have no reason to be jealous, Jim. McCoy is not delusional over his divorce. That's why he is here, because he knew it was true and did not want to face every-day living without her." He takes Jim's silence as agreement. "But we both know that the heart will heal itself. Trust me when I tell you that your _Doctor_ would NOT be considering intimacy with you were he still emotionally compromised by his longing for Jocelyn."

Jim swallows, tests the word "Jocelyn."

"Yes." He stands up and pulls Jim to his feet, gives him a light shove towards the door. "And to answer your question—no, that was not Jocelyn. It was a colleague of McCoy's, just a friend."

The young man lingers in the doorway. "Are you sure?"

Pike considers Kirk slowly. "Yes, I am."

* * *

"Do you require use of my jacket?"

Leonard stares first at the proffered nightshirt and then at Spock. _Oh God, no._

"Spock… Please tell me this isn't another date." He winces at the thought.

The Vulcan—man, whatever—blinks at him. "Was our previous date unsatisfactory?"

McCoy remembers the shrill wail of Scotty's flute. (Where the Hell did the man get a flute anyway? It looked like a small copper pipe but…oh, nevermind.) He sighs at the memory of Uhura's lovely contralto; she can actually sing, Praise the Lord, but the strange mixture of "Hopelessly Devoted to You" and "Every Breath You Take" just made him nervous and Jim giggly. The date was a nice idea, truly, except that Pavel made a flighty waiter who dropped their dinner trays no less than eight times—a record considering there was only three trays—and Sulu played the part of a raging chef and managed to make the usual pile of mush even less appetizing.

The low lighting consisted of three nightlights and the atmosphere was anticipation—because they pretty much had an audience throughout the entire meal. Chekov even whispered (loudly, per usual), "Is the Doctor required to 'put out' after dinner?" in a cute little voice that had Leonard practically banging his head on the table. Didn't help that Jim asked slyly, "Are you, Doctor?"

Leonard whimpers in memory, and Spock attempts to slide the nightshirt over his head. He comes up spitting and growls, "No, no jacket!"

"It is customary for the male to offer his attire—"

"Yeah, to the lady!"

"Are you not the recipient of… courting?"

Seemed like a great idea at the time. Jim and Spock follow the rules of courtship and Leonard gets a little peace of mind. Only, Jim sucks at following rules and Spock seems to think that courtship leads directly to marriage. Granted, when Leonard courted Jocelyn, he had marriage in mind. He often wonders if the female really enjoys her role in the genteel tradition, because McCoy finds it strange and rather bothersome. Of course, no female had to be courted by two certifiably insane men like Jim and Spock. He equates them to gnats—loveable (possibly), annoying gnats. And no matter how much he swats at them, they just won't go away.

He knows Spock is going to win this round. Leonard does not have the energy to outwit that deluded genius brain. "I appreciate the offer, thank you." Then he adds dryly, "However, the evening's warm and my dress is sufficient coverage."

Spock tilts his head and lifts an eyebrow. He answers in a voice that indicates Leonard must be entirely crazy but the Vulcan is too polite to say so, "You are not wearing a dress, Doctor."

Len closes his eyes. "Nevermind," he mumbles, and Spock must decide to allow the doctor this one pass of senselessness. The Vulcan slowly raises his left arm, clearly expecting McCoy to accept the invitation of an escort.

Unfortunately, by now, Leonard is well-trained enough to skip complaining and just let the rollercoaster sweep him away. If anyone stares too long at him—and his red (blushing) face—Len'll scowl quite fiercely until they subside under the force of his displeasure.

Pike nods from the doorway of his office, tacit approval as chaperone, and Leonard suppresses the need to roll his eyes. Jim is waiting for them both at the end of the corridor. The Captain grins and says, "Care for a stroll in the park, Bones?"

He'd reply that they probably need to stroll him straight to the gates of the nearest nut-house—that's obviously where he needs to be—but then Leonard realizes that he already belongs to one.

Shit.

As if things could get worse.

Jim slips up to his free side and lays an arm across his shoulders. "Don't worry, there'll be plenty to see. Right, Spock?"

"Affirmative."

He looks from one to the other, catches the tail-end of a shared secretive glance.

Fuck, it_ can_ get worse! (When is Leonard going to learn?)

They drag him away.

* * *

Later, as Leonard climbs into bed beside a prone Spock, he says to Jim, "I don't think the janitors are going to appreciate Scotty's impromptu pond."

"Mmmm… Romulan janitors. We'll have to remind them to quit poaching our territory."

"What's a Romulan again?"

"Think Vulcan."

Spock intercedes, indignant, with "Romulans and Vulcans share a common ancestry; however, we are segregated by our philosophical practices."

Yeah, Spock doesn't mop floors. Leonard pats an arm. "Touchy, are we, Spock?" The Vulcan turns on his side, facing the wall, which makes McCoy laugh at the display of understated disapproval. Spock would make a proper frigid wife, no doubt.

Jim trots over after he marks another day off the calendar, squeezes in to make a pile, generally draping as many limbs as possible across both men. Len removes one hand from its low perch with exasperation and tucks it against his arm. "Quite squirming. You're not a puppy, kid."

The blond-haired man ignores his grumping and finally settles with a content sigh. Leonard's eyes are drooping, his voice a murmur as he tells the other two, "'Night."

A kiss is pressed to the back of his neck. "Goodnight, Bones."

* * *

Pike is a decent fellow and allows those under his care to celebrate holiday festivities. McCoy is stringing popcorn (since he's the only one allowed to handle a needle) while the other patients create their own unique decorations. Spock is hunched over a large sheet of paper and drawing some sort of schematics. Though why replicating a snowflake has to be so hard, McCoy doesn't understand at all. The Vulcan insists that the paper must be folded at the appropriate angles and the cutting done precisely as possible. When Leonard tries to explain that a snowflake is a product of nature, that its pattern should random rather than _planned_, Spock just stares him down into silence.

Chekov is attempting to build a gingerbread house from play-doh as he insists he was a famous architect before joining Starfleet. Yeah. Sulu is not having a good day (thank God, not a 1 or a 2), so Jim attempts to turn the man's mood with shiny tinsel and promises of snow. Len hates to imagine how Jim is going to create snow in the building, but he's preparing himself for something along the lines of raining asbestos.

Uhura is caroling Christmas tunes with Scotty—their new favorite activity, duet singing. Regrettably, Scotty carries a tune like a cat in heat; that and given his terrible fake Scottish accent, Leonard would sign his soul away for a pair of ear plugs. Pike replied, when begged, "Sorry, McCoy, I had to ban them five years ago when Jim tried to prove that they were perfect for torturing captive Klingons." Len didn't ask for details.

So he's stringing stale popcorn and watching everybody enjoy themselves (barring Sulu). He isn't sure when he started to accept these people as his friends, but the thought strikes McCoy that he does. Sure, there was an incident where Leonard was almost brained to death by Scotty as part of a crazy scheme cooked up by Uhura. And, sure, that led to some rather nasty experiences in a padded cell; but he didn't die, a real madman/torturer was caught and sent to jail, and the crew apologized and cried buckets onto his little bed in the nurse's office. He couldn't stay angry for long, after that. He wanted to, really had thought about all the horrible but true things he could say. In the end, he could not hurt them back, not when they were so fragile. Are fragile, even now.

The crew accepts that he belongs here, with them.

But he cannot get wrapped up in their adventures or Jim's fantasy of space captaincy.

He's Doctor McCoy, appointed physician and CMO to the Enterprise crew.

In reality, he is simply Leonard Horatio McCoy, a man who gave up on his dream to become a doctor.

He didn't think about that before Christine's visit. Now, it is evitable that he remembers what he destroyed. More than just his reputation; more than the way the world will judge him for the rest of his life. He destroyed himself, those things that he had accomplished.

Why?

Jocelyn. Always the same answer he circles back to. She married him because he was a medical student with a promising future. She wanted that ideal, the fame and glory he would one day steep them in, more than she wanted McCoy. Of course, Clay Treadway, his best friend, was an up-and-coming lawyer about to make partner in a prestigious law firm; so, Leonard supposes, Joce changed her mind and decided to switch the star on which she planned to hitch herself.

Shattered him to pieces. He had no one else to love but her—and he gave everything he had. Now, he knows, that love is a trifle to a person like Jocelyn. It makes him never want to trust someone with his heart again.

Jim turns, catches his eye and grins; it's blinding, the kid's grin, like the sun. McCoy feels a thump in his chest, because Jim means every nuance he can shove into that one look.

James Kirk is not lying when he says that he wants Leonard McCoy, wants to love him.

Len is in trouble. Deep trouble, because he isn't sure if his walls are breaking down between the slow, steady efforts of Jim and Spock. If they are, what's on the other side? Is he empty and hollow, barren of returning that kind of emotional commitment?

Leonard does not know that answer. He is terrified of finding out.

"Doctor?"

McCoy starts, sees that Spock is watching him.

"Yeah?"

"You are injured."

Leonard blinks. He looks down, sees the needle in his thumb and only then does its throbbing break into his brain. Wow, he must have really been far away, not to notice it.

"Oh." He removes the needle, watches as a drop of blood wells and runs down the side of his finger. Damn. An inconvenient mess.

Leonard shoves his popcorn to one side and makes his way to the bathroom. He's running water over the wound, not paying much attention, when he glances up and sees Spock in the mirror. Len raises his eyebrow. Spock's goes up in return.

The Vulcan disappears for a moment, returns as Leonard turns off the facet.

Spock takes his hand, which startles McCoy, and presses a paper towel firmly over his thumb.

Leonard feels he must say, "Spock, that's unnecessary. Really. I'm a big boy."

"I do not… enjoy the knowledge that you are hurt."

The admission steals any rejoinder from McCoy's mouth. Spock touches McCoy's face with his other hand, lightly, and that pretty much shuts down the rest of Leonard's thinking. Those long fingers are sliding into his hair, just below his ear.

Spock tilts the doctor's head gently. "May I kiss you, Leonard?"

Len couldn't respond if he wanted to. How can Spock always create such surreal moments like this? (Why is McCoy's heart pounding so hard?)

The Vulcan must decide that his silence is an _okay, go ahead_ because he leans in, face so close, and kisses Leonard softly, his eyes never closing.

The doctor is released, then, and his hand given back to him.

"I believe an adequate clot has formed. You may resume your celebratory ritual of 'stringing popcorn.'"

Spock exits the bathroom, leaving a dumbfounded McCoy in his wake.

* * *

Spock catches his Captain outside the bathroom, stalls his entrance with "We must speak in private, Sir."

Jim eyes him slowly. "Bones?"

The Vulcan deliberately misunderstands him. "The Doctor is well. Come." He places a hand on his mate's lower back and guides him away from the men's restrooms.

They enter their room, and Kirk turns to face him. "What is it, Spock?"

"I wish to discuss the event of Christmas Eve."

Jim goes slightly pale. "Why?"

This Human makes a false assumption. Spock assures him, rather quietly, "I do not have doubts concerning our imminent unification with Leonard. Rather, I would make a request."

That eases the other somewhat, as Spock watches Jim's shoulders relax, draw back with a new confidence. Then Kirk inputs, "You want to be on top?" with that spark in his eye which originally caught Spock's attention.

"Jim, I fail to understand your need for humor."

"Who says I'm joking?" When his mate slides in close and rests his hands on the Vuclan's shoulders, Spock accepts such act with a grace born on tolerance (and much experience).

He states, "I request that we are joined in a bonding ceremony."

Kirk's pupils are blown wide. "You want to get married?"

"Did we not participate in this ritual on the 24th of December one year ago?"

The Human fidgets, as he is prone to do. (Spock remains still.)

"Jim," Spock adds more softly, "we are bonded."

"Yes." The man smiles.

"I have studied the history of courtship that Leonard proposes. It is deemed more appropriate for the courtship to end in an engagement of those involved."

The Captain appears amused.

Spock continues, "However, you desire to cement our relationship in a physical manner. It is an Earth tradition of the past, I believe, for consummation to occur after an official bond is recognized by relations and peers."

"Spock, you dog!"

This statement is illogical; the Vulcan informs the Captain so.

Jim ignores him. "I would say it's a little late to save yourself for marriage, but I like the idea."

"Indeed. We have a physical relationship indicative of our status as bonded mates. However, the Doctor is not, as of yet, party to such status. It would be most appropriate to bring him into our union, legitimately, before we engage in sexual activity."

"You realize Bones is going to be hard to convince."

"Understood. We have sixteen days, five hours and—"

"Plenty of time!"

"I have prepared the 'proposal' but it is also customary to present a band of metallic substance to symbolize the union."

The Captain pulls him down into a kiss, to which Spock is agreeable, before saying, "Don't worry about that. I'll take care of the rings."

Spock unfolds a paper from his robe pocket. "I have compiled a list, Captain,…"

A new plan, in the hands of two excellent strategists, is born.

* * *

…**Somehow, when Bones told Jim "no third base until Christmas" I don't think this is what he had in mind… :D**


	3. The Problem

**The Problem**

* * *

Leonard and Jim are alone, waiting. Spock has his bi-monthly counseling appointment on the third floor with a wise woman whom the Vulcan calls T'Pau; in truth, she's just a specialist in his area of crazy, commissioned by Spock's rich father to psycho-analyze and fix Spock as best she can. That Spock retains a respect for her is interesting. Respect, however, does not seem to spill over into processing or accepting Dr. T'Pau's advice. (What is her real name? Leonard idly wonders; no one ever says.) Spock comes back from these sessions the same, calmer—if anything. (It's weird.) Leonard almost feels sorry for the woman; Spock must drive her bananas with his winding logic which "dictates the preservation of his personality."

Len, during these waits, always thinks about their future. How different their situations are. Spock won't be cured anytime soon, not from what Leonard can tell (and what Jim tells him). What about James Kirk, though?

"Jim."

The kid yawns, his joints popping as he stretches. Then he proceeds to curl back into a ball against Leonard's chest. "Bones?" The answer is sleepy.

"Why did you come back to Fleet Heights?"

"To look for you and Spock."

McCoy pushes at the man's arm. "Jim, I'm serious."

Those blue, blue eyes open, pin him. "So am I."

Leonard sits up, ignoring the mewl of protest. "Wait, you're telling me that you gave up your freedom—your independence—for a couple of fantasy lovers?" Suddenly, he's angry. "You Goddamn fool! That's crazy!"

Jim rolls off the bed, his eyes flashing defensively. "Is it, Bones? Crazy to want someone to love?"

"You had a chance to be normal!"

"I'm NOT normal!"

Their shouting match echoes off the concrete walls of the bedroom. Leonard attempts to lower his voice. "I don't understand."

Jim says nothing, then, his jaw working with frustration.

McCoy sighs. "I don't understand _why_, Jim," he tries to explain. "Why stay here, pretending?"

"How much better is it out there, Leonard?"

He flinches at the use of his first name. Jim doesn't stop or back down. "It's cruel," he says flatly. "And there are people out there who are sicker than we are. _I know_."

Leonard's heart constricts. He didn't mean to force this pain from the kid. "I'm sorry—"

"No," Jim tells him. "Don't bother. You should understand, Bones, you really should. Didn't Jocelyn rip your heart out?" Len flinches again, at _that name _on those lips. (So bitter.) "How fair is it that you're suffering and she isn't?"

"Stop—" Leonard tosses his blanket away. He doesn't want to talk about _her_, not with Jim. Not with anyone.

"No!" Jim pushes him back, blocks his escape.

"Jim, stop it!"

But Jim doesn't, is surprisingly strong as he forces Leonard back down and lays his body across the other man's. That face is close, angry. "I won't let you leave, Bones. This may not be the best place. Maybe it bruises your ego—"

Leonard makes a noise, struggles.

"—but you're safer _here_ than you'd ever be anywhere else. Don't you get that?"

"This isn't my dream," he says.

"Isn't it?" Jim releases one of his wrists to stroke Leonard's cheek. "Why did you give up, Bones? What did you want, that the reality couldn't give you? Tell me."

There are no words that Leonard can speak. No words which are not traitorous.

"We're both here by choice." Jim shudders and sags, unexpectedly, as he takes his next breath. His tone changes, no longer hard but pleading. "Please don't leave."

Leonard swallows. "Jim, don't—"

"_Bones_." The kid touches his forehead to McCoy's with a whimper. "Don't leave me alone. I-I can't—it's dark, always…"

With a careful, slow movement, Leonard slides his hand into that blond hair. He can feel the anguish pouring off Jim. Why is there so much heartbreak?

"I haven't left you, Jim," he says soothingly.

"But you will."

What can he say, when he doesn't know the answer? Instead, he murmurs the only thing that makes sense right now. "Jimmy_._" _Why'd you have to pick me?_ _What if I can't help you?_

Jim pulls away, slides off him and the bed with an uncharacteristic unsteadiness that hurts to watch. Leonard follows but does not attempt to call him back. He stops in the open doorway as Jim disappears down the hall. Len is still there, leaning against the wall, when Spock returns. His despondent shrug is only the answer Spock receives when he wants to know what happened to the Captain.

* * *

"Hello, Captain."

Jim turns at the sound of Uhura's voice. He isn't in the mood to talk to anyone, not right now when the memories are pressing down. Not when he feels like hope is waning, and Bones won't stay.

So much for marriage, he thinks ironically. Spock's disappointment will be painful to see, not to mention his own.

"Captain!"

Why is she always so insistent?

He sighs. "Lieutenant. What can I do for you?"

Uhura cuts her eyes at him. "Something on your mind?"

How to answer that? He keeps a strict code on how he interacts with his crew (except Spock, on occasion). No serious business. No reminders that they are just children playing a game of make-believe.

He gives the woman a great big grin. She takes that as an invitation to loop her arm through his. Well, now he has little choice but to keep her company. He knows from experience that Uhura loves misery. (She loves knowing everyone's problems—being the one with all the knowledge. It's part of her issues.)

He starts talking randomly. "Our last mission was a success. I hear there are—"

"Jim," Uhura says softly.

Damn.

"Now how's that fair, when I don't know your first name, lady?" Of course he knows it is Nyota, but that's the one thing she seems to pride herself on withholding from her Captain. A kind of leverage, he supposes. Why is a mystery to all but Uhura herself.

She won't be deterred, however. "Jim, is it the Doctor?"

He pulls his arm out of hers. "Uhura…" It's a warning and request all wrapped into one.

She blinks at him, narrows her eyes. "You shouldn't worry about the Doctor so much, Captain. He doesn't understand his value to our crew. Not yet."

Jim half-turns away, balling his fists. "Maybe he shouldn't be part of the crew," Jim answers softly. "Maybe I was wrong."

"No." It's the firm way she speaks the word that sparks a tiny flare of hope inside Jim. (Oh how that hurts.)

"Why?" he asks.

She looks at him, through him—which is unnerving. She answers his question with another question: "How come none of us were right for you, Jim?"

His heart trembles in his throat. "I— You just weren't."

She nods once, as if his reply is all that she had expected. "You knew that Pavel or Hikaru wouldn't be the third. You knew that it wasn't Scotty—or me either."

He says nothing; there's nothing to say.

"I trust your instincts, Captain. We all do. It's what makes you our leader. You ought to trust yourself." She pokes at his chest with one long nail. "You should trust this."

"But Bones—" How can she understand?

"Leonard is a stubborn man. And I know that he has had better… offers, but he'll realize that the Enterprise is the right ship for him." Uhura smiles, so suddenly, it's like the sun breaking through the clouds. "Trust him too. That's why he's your third."

"Lass!"

Uhura turns away at that, her whole countenance glowing. She looks back at her Captain, before leaving him, and says "Trust him, Sir, like I trust mine."

Jim watches, at a loss for words, as she and Scotty share a secret (sweet) look and laugh. They link arms and walk away.

* * *

Pike is in his office, finishing up his day with some paperwork, when a familiar head pops around the corner of his doorway.

"Jim."

"Admiral, Sir."

So they're talking on those terms. He suppresses a knowing smile. "What can I do for you, Captain?"

Kirk steps up to his desk, not fidgeting, which is another tell-tale sign. "Chris," the young man begins, "my father—" He hesitates, continues, "—and my mother… Do you remember when you used to tell me the story about their wedding?"

Pike leans back in memory. "More like elopement, if I recall correctly. Why?" He eyes the serious lines of that body. "What is it? What do you need to know?"

"Two things," James Kirk tells him. "First, you used to tell me stories when—"

Jim doesn't finish that statement; Pike knows the rest of the sentence well enough. It was long, those nights in the hospital, holding a frail hand in his—watching such a young child suffer (recover, never completely).

"You said their rings were special. How were they special? Second, I need your help… to get my own."

Chris is quiet. In the end, he says to his godchild, "I can do one better for you, son." He goes over to his wall-safe and unlocks it. When Christopher Pike turns back to his patient and almost-child (the closest he'll ever come to one of his own), he hands the curious kid a small box.

As Jim opens the box, Chris is finally able to offer a gift he's held in trust for over twenty years. "It's your daddy's ring." There are tears in the boy's eyes as he touches it reverently. "And now it's yours."

Chris settles onto the corner of his desk. "For the others, what did you have in mind?"

* * *

Jim slides in between Spock and the Doctor at the cafeteria table. They never forget to leave an empty place for him. Leonard feels that this is ironic. (Another way he's reminded of their "relationship" that he seems to get sucked into believing might be real.)

"Bones…"

McCoy tries not to tense, not to upset Jim anymore than he already has. He responds with a grunt as he pretends to concentrate on his dinner.

"I'm sorry."

The words are so softly spoken that Leonard almost doesn't catch them. (But his heart does, like always.) He puts down his fork with a sigh.

"I'm sorry too, kid."

Kirk nods quietly, adjusts the placement of his tray. There is a period of awkwardness, eventually broken by the no-nonsense Spock.

"Captain, I have completed the second phase. Shall I begin on the third?"

What? "What phase?" Leonard leans over, trying to see around Jim (who's ignoring him) to Spock. "What are ya'll planning?"

The Captain replies with ease, "Commence to Phase Four, Mr. Spock. Phase Three is complete."

Leonard's brows come down. He scowls along the table, looking at each face for clues. Chekov is eating his vegetables (definitely a sign of shenanigans afoot), Sulu is grinning like a loon at his spoon of pudding, and Scotty is ignoring everyone—no surprise there.

It's Uhura's smile that strikes fear into Leonard's heart. She winks at him and he scoots a little closer to Jim. Len bumps his shoulder into Kirk's.

"Yes, Bones?"

"Why's Uhura looking at me like that?"

Jim's expression is tolerant, his blue eyes twinkling. Len thinks his stomach may have just dropped to his feet with a resounding _plop_. "Like what?"

"Like you are. Like I'm the main course on tonight's menu."

"Oh, you aren't," the Captain replies with a grin. "Not tonight's menu."

Oh fucking Hell.

No amount of prodding, bitching or threatening dire consequences gets the Great Kirk to spill the beans. Spock, of course, is a lost cause—like an oyster protecting its pearl.

Finally, the doctor gives up and finishes his meal. All the while, he's trying to decide the best way to entice the doe-eyed Pavel into another room. 'Course, then he remembers how little Pavel has maniac Sulu as a roommate and decides he'd rather not find out if a butter knife can do significant damage to a man.

… Hrm. There's always the Scotsman. Who definitely owes McCoy for that concussion.

Now it's a matter of cornering the man without his lady-love in sight.

Leonard smiles. Maybe he's the newest of the bunch; maybe he's the sanest too. But Len is learning how to play the game their way. Anybody who's anybody (meaning part of Kirk's infamous starship crew) knows about Scotty's midnight rambles to the Engine room.

He hasn't had a reason to be curious about what, exactly, that entails—though Len knows Scotty is a former plumber—nor has he had a reason to investigate.

Until now.

If the Captain and the First Officer are planning a scheme of some sort (a scheme that won't be to Leonard's liking, no doubt) and refuse to share, then he'll determine what the Hell is going on himself. Better not to be blind-sided (literally). He comforts his rational side with the logic that it's the CMO's job to straighten out any errant plotters—or medical emergencies in the making.

He only hopes that Jim's plan is one that can be stalled if necessary.


	4. The Reality

**The Reality**

* * *

McCoy tries not to spit out his grape juice. When Scotty had offered him a drink, he'd been prepared to turn the man down. Then the Engineer had dug around in a box and pulled out two juice boxes. Len couldn't help but laugh at himself for his assumptions.

Sure. Hard liquor in an insane asylum. Just what the psychologists ordered, no doubt.

Turns out that Mr. Scott is an amiable man once you get him on the subject of plumbing. In the thirty minutes since Leonard arrived in Engineering—actually, the boiler room—he's learned more about the antique piping system of Fleet Heights than he ever needed (or wanted) to know. But Scotty seems happy enough with his little tool kit, and from the looks of things actually does a decent job keeping up the maintenance down here. (Len will have to remember to ask Pike if the repairman on the payroll is aware of this patient's tinkering.)

"What?"

Scotty blinks at him, once, twice and says, "What?"

"Did you just congratulate me?"

"Sure, lad. Congratulations," the man repeats before turning back to twisting his wrench on some connection or other.

Not the answer he'd been expecting. How does "So what do I need to do to help the Captain and First Officer?" translate into a "Not a thing. We're takin' care of the details, laddie. Ye just sit back and accept our congratulations"?

Now he's really confused and just a little more than afraid.

"Scotty?"

The engineer grunts and switches out his tool for another.

Len reaches over and slides the tool kit away from his companion. When Mr. Scott attempts to find a monkey wrench, his hand gropes only air.

"Doctor! What are ye doing?"

"You can have these back when you finish answering my questions."

It's then that the man seems to realize he shouldn't be talking to Doctor McCoy. "Uhura'll get mad."

"Well, you can tell Nyota that I forced you to talk." Len picks up a tool and dangles it precariously from one finger. "What would you say if this accidentally ended up… outside?"

"No! Please, I dinnae—_please_—"

Leonard feels kind of bad, at that moment, as Scotty looks horrified and close to tears. "It's alright, I'm not going to do anything to your tools, Scotty. But—" He slumps over in his chair. "—you have to understand that bad things can happen if I'm not aware of what's going on." He catches Scotty's eyes, holds them. "Just like a couple of months ago. You could have killed me."

Maybe it's not fair to bring that up, not when he knows how upset Scotty is over the whole ordeal. But how else is Leonard going to figure out how to make the man understand, make him explain?

"I cannae tell ye everything."

"Okay. Then tell me what you are able to, and I'll leave you to your work."

There is a minute of silence between them as Leonard watches the man scrub at his forehead. (Jesus, Scotty's sweating. This really must be a big plan.)

"Scotty…"

"A'right!" And the man—this friend (isn't that strange?)—begins to talk.

* * *

Shit.

Oh fucking shit.

Leonard knows that it's been too long since he left Jim and Spock. ("Just going to piss, go on back t'sleep, Jimmy.") Eventually the kid will figure out one of his bed-warmers is missing and then get Spock riled up.

But… SHIT.

How Leonard supposed to go back up to that room and pretend he knows nothing?

There is an even bigger question, a true complication that twists his stomach into knots, but if he gives into those thoughts, he'll be little more than a nervous wreck shivering all night in the stairwell. (OhGodohgodohgod.)

Len closes his eyes and swallows. He wishes he'd never asked. He wishes… Hell, he CAN'T wish for that because what if, on Christmas Eve, he'd been standing there like the oblivious dupe on whom Jim and Spock had hinged their (fucking devious) plan?

_Hey, Bones_, Len hears in his head, _let's get hitched!_

Marriage—even a sham or pretense of a marriage—scares the shit out of him. Half a year ago he _had_ been married and dreaming of children. (How can they do this to him?)

He trusted both Jim and Spock to take it slow, and so far they've proven that they understand how sensitive McCoy is about becoming entangled in a relationship (about opening his heart again).

It's as if everything he thought he knew about them—those annoying men that are squirming their way under his skin—is wrong. As if they are strangers after all. He shudders at the thought that he made a terrible mistake in letting them persuade him to start this "triad."

Is it because Len is so needy for love that he couldn't say no?

Is it because Len wants to believe that there might be people in the world who won't abandon him, stopping loving him?

(Oh God, why?)

In the end, he drags himself first to the bathroom to wash the taste of (bitter) grape out of his mouth. If Leonard stares at himself longer than necessary in the bathroom mirror, he's only taking stock of his pale face and terrified eyes. Once back in his room, he manages to slide onto the edge of the bed without alerting either occupant, his brain racing in unhappy little circles.

Jim rolls against his back, says sleepily "Bones" and is out like a light again. Len wants to cry. Instead, he grips the blanket in shaking hands, forcing the upset roiling of his stomach to subside. He doesn't fall asleep, simply lies awake and wonders…

How is he going to stop this?

* * *

"You seen Bones?"

"Leonard informed me of an 'emergency' meeting this morning."

Jim frowns. "With who?"

"He did not provide this information, Jim."

Kirk sits in silence for a few minutes, pushing the food around on his plate. "Did you notice how strange he was acting this morning?"

Spock's eyebrow goes up.

"He didn't yell at me when I picked up his toothbrush," Jim clarifies. "He always does."

"Captain." Spock switches his tone (almost imperceptible to anyone else but Jim), "Are you aware that Doctor McCoy left our room during Beta shift for approximately fifty three point nine minutes?"

The other man goes very still. "No," he answers quietly. "I remember him muttering about the bathroom."

Spock turns to face Jim. "He returned, Sir, smelling of a particular fruit most commonly—"

Jim makes a noise, goes pale. They both turn to look down the table at the Engineer who is oblivious to their scrutiny. On his tray sits an innocuous red-and-blue juice box.

"Grape," Jim breathes, horrified.

"Yes, Jim." Spock's voice is lower than usual.

The Captain drops his fork with a _clatter_ and pushes away from the table. Spock is not far behind.

"Mr. Scott."

The Engineer blinks up at them. They three must be a sight—two pale Humans locked in a stare and a Vulcan sneaking up behind his enemy.

"Captain," Scotty answers nervously.

Jim bends down, his fists planted on the table and leans in close to the wide-eyed officer. "Tell me about your meeting with Doctor McCoy, Mr. Scott."

"I dinnae say anything—"

A Vulcan hand comes to rest on the Engineer's shoulder and, if anything, Scotty looks more terrified. "Scotty," Jim says too softly.

"Captain?"

Uhura breaks into the scene, disbelief coloring her voice, and walks straight to Scotty's side. She glares at Spock until the Vulcan removes his hold on her man and places his hands behind his back.

"Uhura, don't interfere," Jim snaps.

She turns cold dark eyes on Kirk. "Are you questioning Mr. Scott based on more than an assumption?"

Kirk says nothing.

Uhura pulls Scotty to his feet. She tells both of her commanding officers, "When you two quit acting like Klingon bastards, then you know where to find _us_."

They watch, Jim and Spock, as the only clue to a potentially upsetting situation with their third disappears from sight.

* * *

McCoy waits until the secretary rounds the corner of a filing cabinet before he dashes into the little hallway and through the targeted door.

M'Benga blinks up at him from behind a desk piled high with papers and books. Rather than calling down the orderlies to deal with a runaway patient, as M'Benga's predecessor Dr. Puri would have done, the man simply puts down his pen and asks "Yes?" as if having mentally unstable patients burst into his office is an everyday occurrence.

Maybe it is; maybe Jim's done this more than once, Len thinks wryly.

He clears his throat. "Sir…"

"Please, Leonard, have a seat. And call me Geoff." The man gestures at the empty chair across from him. He also warns McCoy, "Mr. Pike will be arriving shortly for our weekly meeting. I'd say you have only ten minutes to tell me your side of the story."

Holy Jesus on a cracker, the man is smiling at him.

Leonard gingerly sits down like a man expecting a trap. Then he tells the man, easily enough, "There's no crisis."

Did he just imagine the Director's (relieved) slump of shoulders?

"Thank God."

Nope, definitely didn't imagine _that_. Leonard actually feels a bit sorry for this man. Being Director to a band of adventurous loons like James Kirk cannot be an easy task.

"Geoff," Len begins, "have you read my file?"

"An interesting case study," M'Benga remarks as he leans down, unlocks a drawer, and_ hmms_ for a minute before dropping a large manila folder onto his desk.

Leonard stares at it. Damn. Why is it so fat? Surely he's not that crazy. (Oh God, what if he is?)

M'Benga leans forward, speaks to him in a slightly cheerful (odd) tone. "You are an interesting case, Mr. McCoy, because your condition is quite… unexpected for a man with your history."

"History?"

"Yes." The Director flips open the file, reads off a list of Leonard's accomplishments.

McCoy stares at him like he's the crazy one. "You know that means nothing, right?"

"Does it?" M'Benga pulls out a pair of reading glasses, sets them_ just so_ on the end of his nose and continues riffling through the papers.

"Yes," Leonard answers suspiciously. "Just 'cause I seemed like a normal man doesn't mean my craziness wasn't brewing until just the right moment."

The other man makes a noise of agreement.

Leonard switches tactics. "My wife left me."

The Director shoots him a look over the top of his glasses. (Len finds it hard to decipher.) "A lot of people end up divorced, McCoy."

"So I'm just a statistic." He doesn't attempt to sugar-coat the bitterness in his voice. _Another man dumped by his loving wife._

"No. On the contrary, you are the oddity." M'Benga leans back, watching Leonard with something akin to sympathy in his eyes. "Of those who do suffer through the betrayal of a spouse and divorce, you are the one who admits himself into the mental hospital for help."

Leonard's smirk is ironic. "Wouldn't say I _admitted _myself, Geoff…"

"It is normal for a person to feel depression, anger, or any number of concentrated emotions. It's part of the psyche, how the mind copes with trauma." M'Benga stares him down. "Most people handle their feelings through counseling and medication."

McCoy snorts. "Isn't that what I'm gettin' here, Doc?" He tries for a laugh but Geoff isn't playing along.

"Over time, the mental imbalance subsides—is easier to deal with—and the person can resume a normal standard of living. You, on the other hand, seem to feel it necessary to join an institution. Tell me, Leonard, why is that?"

This is not how Len expected this conversation to go. He was going to confess his sins, suffer through a derisive laugh or two, and then demand a psych-evaluation (even though the new quarter is still one month away).

He didn't expect M'Benga to be one step ahead of him.

"You talked to Chris."

Dr. Geoffrey M'Benga chuckles. "Chris merely told me that you were a special patient which, given your floormates, piqued my interest. I've done a little more research on you than required by my position. I find you… fascinating."

Leonard scowls, because damned if the man isn't making a secret of enjoying himself and his patients' quirks. (Len is insulted on Spock's behalf, though he'd deny it if asked.)

"Well." Leonard decides that he ought to concoct an Escape Plan B and stands up. "Been nice chatting, Doctor. I'm sure my ten minutes are up."

"McCoy, what is it you that you wanted to address specifically?"

"Doesn't matter," Len tells him. "You seem to know all the facts."

"Leonard."

"Don't worry, I am not gonna make trouble. I just wanted—" Shit. How can he actually say the words, knowing how desperate he'll sound?

Somehow, M'Benga understands. "You want to know that I will be able to help you, should you decide to 'suitably recover' from your illness." The Director stands up as well and walks to the door.

Leonard opens it, glances out at a startled Pike standing next to the secretary (who's equally shocked to see the grim-faced McCoy). The Director—Geoff—briefly touches his shoulder, drawing Len's attention back to him.

"Do you think that you are ready?" M'Benga asks quietly.

Leonard answers, in all honesty, "I might need to be."

* * *

"Bones!"

The kid catches up to him in the hallway.

"Jim," he acknowledges flatly. For that, he gets spun around and gripped by two unyielding hands.

Kirk's face is searching his. Leonard can clearly see a vacillation of some sort working its way through Jim's thoughts.

"Spit it out," he tells the blond-haired man.

"Do you know?"

Leonard tilts his head, silent. "Do I know what, Jim?"

"About—" Kirk cannot finish that sentence, cannot be sure if Leonard really does have an inkling of the upcoming Christmas Eve plan. (The wedding, Len's brain supplies bluntly.)

Len isn't about to help him. In fact, he realizes that this particular confrontation—in the cold empty hall, just him and Jim—can only lead to despair on both sides. As much as Leonard is scared and partially angry, at this moment, he is mindful of Jim's feelings (and Spock's).

So he says, "I missed breakfast. Think they've got something left over?"

Jim releases him, those hands lingering on his upper arms before they are retracted. "Spock saved you some fruit."

Leonard barely nods. As he turns away, he closes his eyes and locks down on any visual sign of regret that might betray him. (It's hard to smooth the expression from his face. How does Spock do it?) "Okay. Lead on, Captain."

Jim does, though his walk is slower (and less certain) than usual. There's nothing Leonard can say, not really. He's gotten himself—and two other good (hopeful) people—involved in a messy tangle of emotions and desire (love?) that will cut them all to the quick before a resolution can be found.

How could Jocelyn do it, so carelessly and without remorse? Leonard doesn't find it easy at all, breaking someone's heart.


	5. The Truth

**The Truth**

* * *

Christmas Eve approaches and Leonard is none-the-wiser on how to prevent utter devastation. There have been temporary lulls in which he could have simply blurted out "I can't marry you!"; inevitably, those moments were broken by Jim, Spock or both and some sweet gesture of theirs that makes his heart go _thump-thump_.

He's screwed.

Leonard curses himself for having so little courage; he curses his tenderness and that little voice inside that says _don't hurt them, Len_.

But how can he possibly continue on in this charade? The thought of a matrimonial ceremony scares him right down to the core. It brings up all those little memories of the past—Jocelyn admiring her diamond ring, their shared kiss inside a humble-sized chapel (her family's, Len never went to church before Joce). The honeymoon thereafter, a time when Len was in caught up in the ecstasy of love and dreams of a glorious future (and a family).

He doesn't think that he go through that again, not even with the repeated assurances of happily-ever-after. Leonard has learned the hard way that there are few _happily-ever-after_s in this world—and he's not a lucky contender for one. Especially not here, secluded from the world as he is.

That was his mistake, he knows.

To have a chance at a happily-ever-after, one must participate in life. Leonard has been trying his damnedest to forego reality and all its little problems. He's tried to hide from responsibility and disappointment, from those judging eyes of his peers and the empty bedroom he'll go home to at night.

Sure there are ways to drown his sorrows (like he attempted with that final drinking binge) or numb his feelings. Sure he could pick up another woman easily enough to fill the void.

But he can't do that. It's as unappealing to him as vegetables are to Chekov.

He does want love; he does want acceptance.

But he's afraid of failure and heartbreak, feels too old and too undesirable to start the dating game all over again. Jocelyn had been his big win—the one with whom he thought _no more looking, this is it_—and what a loss that had turned out to be. (A painful one, at best.)

Len wants to believe in Jim and Spock. He really does. But there is still the matter of the _where_ and _why_ that unnerves him. Fleet Heights, a mental institution. For the insane. How can a man trust himself to know what is real in this place and what is fantasy? How can a man trust that a relationship—of any kind—is more than fleeting?

What if Jim decides Leonard is not his Bones?

What if Spock's family decides that the Vulcan needs to be closer to home? What if his father—that cold bastard, from what Jim says—makes good on his threat to ship Spock overseas to a private "more secluded" facility?

What if Pike retires (as he is bound to, one day) and the new supervisor doesn't take kindly to trysts on his floor?

Their relationship is subject not only to their own whimsical natures, but to the whims of others with greater power. And the more Leonard considers the situation, the more he concludes that mental patients are not powerful in the least. A man gives up the right to make decisions for himself when he is declared mentally incompetent. (To have the judgment reversed is easily a thousand times more difficult than it is to be marked and discarded.)

The world is sad on the outside and even sadder on the inside.

It seems that Leonard cannot win for losing.

With these (depressing) thoughts, he is helping hang garland around a large plastic Christmas tree. He says nothing as Spock, who walks beside Len as he circles, fixes the haphazardly strung garland in Leonard's wake to just the precise spots (that only Spock can see). He pretends not to know that Jim is watching them both with a satisfied air.

And suddenly, like a snap of some unseen force, Leonard can no longer stand being surrounded by these laughing (insane, childish, _happy_) people. He bundles the rest of the garland against Spock's chest, says "Finish it. I'll quit makin' a mess." Then without a backward glance at any other person, even the ones who are drilling holes into his back, Len marches determinedly from the recreational room and to the windowed end of the second floor hallway.

He stops at his favorite one, with a view that overlooks wildly grown grounds in an (seemingly endless) stretch to tall gatework that wraps around the perimeter. The pane won't budge when he shoves against it; dust collects on his hands as he searches for a clasp or lock. In the subsequent knowledge that he is truly trapped, Leonard drops one shoulder and his head onto the cold glass.

Laughter bubbles up in his throat. It's raining. Of course. Always raining. The laughter comes out in a whimper.

"Leonard."

"Spock." Leonard's monotone is a match for the Vulcan's. He traces a finger across the glass, spelling _S-p-o-c-k_. "What's your real name?"

"My name_ is_ Spock."

Len rolls until his back meets the glass. Huh. (Jim's silent for once.) "Spock's your real name?"

The Vulcan watches him with dark eyes. Finally, "My mother called me Spock."

Ah. He gets it. A sentimental nickname, between Spock and his mother, no doubt. The man worshipped the ground she walked on, of that much Leonard is sure. He wonders how Spock must miss her. (Enough to go crazy? How ironic, almost like McCoy himself.)

Leonard stares past Spock to Jim and says, "I want to go outside."

Jim comes to him, takes his hand. "Okay."

* * *

If there's anything Leonard McCoy will remember about James Kirk, it is the man's unwavering dedication to making his crew happy. Jim doesn't hesitate to led them down to the first floor, doesn't bother to contemplate what happens if they get caught.

No, he herds Leonard and Spock into a small room, tells them to wait. In a matter of minutes (just as Len is wondering how he could have demanded such a dangerous, foolish thing), Jim returns with an orderly Leonard had hoped to never seen again.

Giotto is tapping his foot with impatience, does a cursory sweep over both Len and Spock and dismisses them.

"It's going to cost you, Kirk."

"I'm good for it," Jim answers calmly enough.

The big man nods once and fishes a card out of his pocket. "Back courtyard is empty this time of day. You got thirty minutes before I claim you jumped me."

Jim nods, takes their ticket to freedom. "Let's go."

Leonard decides that thirty minutes might as well be a lifetime, so he is hot on Jim's heels and dragging Spock along who, for once, is protesting this "illogical unplanned tour of the planet."

Turns out that the Vulcans are a lot like cats. They hate getting wet.

Leonard throws up his arms to the rain as soon as he sets foot outside and ignores everything and everyone else. When he finally comes back to himself (to his body, his surroundings), Len hears Jim trying to coax Spock from the doorway.

He does the only sensible thing. He grabs Spock's other arm and summarily yanks him out into the open.

"It is highly illogical to stand in the rain. I must protest. The probability of chest cong—"

"Oh can it, Spock," Leonard announces with a grin. Jim is mirroring his amused expression. "Thanks, Jim."

"Anything for you, Bones."

Another crack in the wall around his heart. Damn. Does Jim know what he's doing to Leonard?

McCoy drops those thoughts by the wayside. He does a slow circle around the stone-laid area, runs a hand across a low wall along one side. The courtyard is ill-kept, overgrown with weeds. He wonders if the administrators have banned outdoor activities for all patients. (Pike would know.)

Beyond the small courtyard is an acre of yard that bumps into a high iron-wrought fence. Was the fence built to keep the insane from getting out or the world from getting in? Is it a marker of property or protection?

All these little inane questions whisper through his head. Some of them he voices aloud; no one has answers. That's okay because Leonard is just glad to breathe in the fresh air, if a little damp and smelling faintly of leftover autumn rot. The air is bitterly cold, which surprises McCoy because though his brain knows it's mid-December, he hasn't physically felt the change of seasons in over six months. Had forgotten the little details like cold mornings, the beauty of naked trees or an overcast grey sky that makes him wish fervently for snow. (Snow is a rare muted memory.)

When he shivers, Jim asks if he's cold. "Not yet," he says like a young child that wants to stay outside until sundown. Jim simply nods in understanding and pulls him in close to share body heat.

Spock seems to have forgotten his discomfort and is bent over inspecting a beetle waddling next to his foot. When the laugh comes out of Len's mouth, he is as equally surprised as Jim and Spock.

Jim's blue eyes dance and Leonard wonders if his own are doing the same.

"Thank you," he says again. This moment of peace (of newness, hope) is worth a thousand _thank you_'s.

A corner of Kirk's mouth goes up. "Perhaps you'd better show me how much you mean it, Bones," he teases.

Normally Leonard would roll his eyes and push the kid away. He does the exact opposite, without a thought or misgiving. Jim's body goes stiff for only a split second as Leonard kisses him on the mouth and then melts. It's closed-mouthed and actually the nicest kiss Leonard can remember in a long time. Urgency is absent; there is only the soft _splat_ of rain and the warmth of touching bodies.

When Leonard draws back, Jim's eyes are still closed; Len watches them slowly open, reveal the clear blue of a mountain lake (the kind Len'd seen as a child once, in the Appalachians on a spring day).

"Wow."

Leonard cannot help himself. His eyebrow goes up. "Really, Jim. A man'd think you haven't been kissed before." He suppresses his grin.

Jim blinks at him and smiles. "Actually, my experience is pretty limited." He tilts his blond head in the direction of the building.

Oh. Leonard punches down that little monster of _sympathy-pity-regret _that uncoils somewhere in his chest.

Jim plants a kiss on his jaw when he isn't looking. "We can practice all I want, right, Bones?"

Leonard shudders, but not with cold. Oh crap. "Jim…"

Jim takes a step back from him, at the look that must be on his face. (Why won't that monster inside stay the fuck down?)

Spock interrupts with "There are seventeen minutes and thirty-nine seconds remaining."

Yes, there will be little enough time left for us, Leonard knows. But Kirk won't be side-tracked. He's still watching Leonard carefully. McCoy cannot stand the sight of him, tense in those proud shoulders—and the vulnerability too.

"Bones?"

It's a question, one he's been sidestepping since the beginning. Leonard turns away. (_Coward!_) "Nothing, Jim."

He lets out a sigh and prepares to let the Vulcan haul them back inside early. (The pleasure of the open outdoors is dissipating quickly, replaced by something ugly and desperate.)

"We're not going back in until you share a truth," Jim says. Suddenly the iron-wrought fence is closer than it seems, too close. Leonard stares at it, at the spikes topping each post, before turning to face the other wall—Jim and Spock, shoulder-to-shoulder and just as impossible.

"What truth do you want to hear?" He attempts to say the words in a mild voice but even Leonard can recognize their wavering.

"The truth… about us."

"You?"

"No, Bones," Jim snaps. All the sweetness is gone—from the moment, from them. Bitterness is thick; fear, thicker. "About this!" The man takes hold of his arms and pulls him close. For an overhead observer, they each would form a vertex of a triangle, equally spaced and all facing center.

Jim's voice gentles, then. "About our future."

How (or why) he manages to say it, he never knows. "We have no future."

Jim jerks back, like he's been slapped. Spock's eyebrows come down. "Explain." The Vulcan says that one command as if the world hinges on it. (Maybe it does.)

Leonard slowly pulls out of Jim's lax hands. He takes a shuddering breath.

"This is where I belong." Len makes a gesture around them. "Out here; where I should have stayed in the first place." He swallows hard. "I made a mistake. I'm sorry."

Oh how the betrayal blossoms in Jim's eyes. (Len refuses to acknowledge their sheen; let the man have his dignity, at the least, if Leonard is going to strip all else from him.)

"You didn't," Jim argues, voice breaking. "You came to us because you needed _us_, Bones."

"Maybe I did, Jim. And you've helped me, both of you. You're really have. I-I'll never be able to repay that debt."

Jim's head drops; Leonard can no longer see those eyes. He's sick with relief.

"So that's it." Kirk sounds hollow. "Thanks for the entertainment and so long." That body wracks and Spock shifts, puts on a hand on his bondmate's shoulder.

"Jim, it's not like that."

"No?" The echo of laughter is wrong, so very wrong coming from the kid. Jim balls his fists and finally fixes a look on Leonard that is more than pained. It's angry. "It wasn't_ entertainment_ for us, McCoy."

Len flinches.

"It was hope, and it was hard work. You think I liked being rejected, time and again, because you didn't want to talk to anyone? Do you think that Spock has been so… _open_ with his previous roommates, with_ anyone_ but me?"

McCoy's throat is tight, aches—shame rising.

"We trusted you!" Jim says harshly. "We trusted in you because—" The man breaks off, steps away from both Spock and Leonard. The Vulcan is trying to call him back, but Jim keeps moving away. He doesn't stop staring at Leonard (through him). "I won't apologize for trying to love you. I'm not WRONG for what I want. It's _you_—" The accusation shreds Len's heart into ribbons. "—who are wrong."

Then he's gone, slamming back into the building in a despairing rage that Leonard cannot begin to match. Spock is silent, stiff-backed.

"Spock?"

The Vulcan turns on his heel and walks away. Leonard is alone. Any tears he might cry are nothing more than steady trails of rain upon his face.

**

* * *

**

I'd let you use my tissue-box but I need every single one...


	6. The Understanding

**The Understanding**

* * *

James Kirk does not have the experience of falling in-and-out of love. He has sexual experience, a surface understanding of lust, of want and desire. He knows little about the slow fall for another person, until the attachment between them is so deeply rooted that it may bend under pressure but will not break.

When Jim returned to Fleet Heights, he met a man named Spock and felt, for the first time, a need for _more_. Spock may have been tight-lipped and silent to most, but Jim could see the spark of that _something_ returned in those dark eyes. It was little trouble, in the end, to begin a relationship with him. Those times were joyous and hopeful for a young man that had dreamed of companionship—of those two missing pieces that, in his mind, made him whole (made him able to function, to not be afraid). In a small way, they—Jim and Spock—began as an obsession for each other until the first few frantic months of _this-has-to-work_ passed and gradually lost its urgency for something sweeter. It settled into calmness. The Vulcan soothed a hurt in Jim that he had steadily ignored for years and, in return, Jim loved Spock as just as he was. Together, they were strong—not quite complete—but a force and a passion that could not be undone.

Jim thought he understood, then; that he knew all there was to know of matters of the heart.

But he did not. Not until Bones arrived and the real meaning of love-at-first-sight struck him like Cupid's arrow. Here was a man, not just the third to a fantasy, but a real flesh-and-blood person that made Jim want to drop to his knees and beg for a touch or a look.

Jim reacted instantly: he pursued his Bones with dogged determination, unwilling to give up on a thing that-could-be. McCoy ignored him for weeks and, finally, one day snarled right into his face "leave me the fuck alone!" It was the funniest, loveliest sound in the world—a sound he wanted to hear for the rest of his life. So he kept on going, kept pursuing until Bones began to grow too tired to fight him. By then, Spock had joined Jim in the pursuit and they tried their best to capture the elusive doctor.

But Jim is inexperienced, really, except for Spock (and vice versa). They knew that they wanted Leonard to be a part of them and forgot the basic assumptions of every fairy tale and love story ever read. Love is freely given_ and_ received; it is a two-sided coin, both sides of which make the whole. And they could not understand that a man like Leonard McCoy, who already knows about love, would fear it. He's a man who fell hard and was left with nothing; he is a broken heart that has seen the ugly side of loving someone.

Jim did not understand the term "broken-hearted" until now. If this feeling is even a margin of the pain Bones experienced at the hands of his ex-wife, then Jim could forgive him for his reluctance to love.

Almost.

There is a surprising bitterness that comes with a broken heart. Kirk feels it in his core, hangs onto it, because he is not sure that he can keep himself in one piece without the fire of anger to carry him through the stretch of days. It used to be anticipation and joy that kept him going, to that long-awaited Christmas Eve; now he dreads the day, has yet to tell anyone (the rest of the crew) that the plans might as well be cancelled. Those words will be his final acceptance of a future without McCoy and, as much as he burns and aches at the thought of Bones, some part of him is not ready to acknowledge the no-win scenario.

Spock stays with him now, in his room, which is a testament to the Vulcan's unhappiness with Doctor McCoy. Jim refuses to picture, at night, Bones alone on a large otherwise empty bed. Instead, he buries his face against Spock's back and pretends to sleep until exhaustion does pull him into oblivion.

It's mostly his foul mood (and broken heart) on which he blames his subsequent blindness to Spock's condition. It isn't until six days later, when he wakes to a thrashing bedmate, that Jim realizes he has been too focused on his own pain. Spock is sweating and hot. Not just hot, but burning hot with fever. Jim tries to wake him up, does so for only a moment; Spock blinks heavily at him (at the concern on his face) and rolls away.

"Spock?"

The only reply is a hacking cough that rocks the bed-frame.

Jim wastes no more time. He scrambles for his robe and dashes down the hall. It's night, Pike is gone. There is a skeleton staff of sleepy security guards and a night nurse. He is down the stairs in record time. A man—some janitor—calls out "Hey you!" but Jim ignores him. There is no light under the door of the small office, no indication that a nurse in on duty (why not? why now?); the door is locked when Jim jerks on the doorknob.

No one here.

No one to help.

Jim thinks that this panicky feeling is going to burst his lungs, so he takes one deep breath and then another. Spock is sick, more than just unwilling to leave the room (like Jim had assumed) or depressed enough to oversleep (like Jim had continued to assume—and thus ignored the warning signs).

With a curse he is back at the stairwell and taking two steps at a time.

* * *

Leonard is not asleep. He lies on his back and stares at the ceiling for hours at a time, intermittently gets up to peer out the door and then lay back down. He ignores the sounds of quiet hustling—like the janitor that mops the floor with _swosh-swosh-swosh_ or the pacing of an orderly on security detail. Somewhere down the hall there is an echo of a door slamming (probably the stairwell) and Leonard rolls over onto his side.

Standing out in the rain wasn't the best idea Len had ever had. His nose was somewhat stuffy for the next two days, but he ate plenty of fruit, forced himself to drink water-galore, and even went so far as to request vitamin supplements. The cold is subsiding, for which the man is grateful. He has already been laid up with an injury in this place; there is no need for a repeat experience because of his stubbornness.

So McCoy lies there and his brain dredges up a name that makes him curse. Why can't he stop thinking about Jim? Or Spock? Neither man has talked to him since that harsh confrontation. Jim won't look at him when they are in the same room, an occurence even more rare because the Captain always seems to be needed elsewhere these days. Spock Leonard has not seen hide-nor-hair-of in the least. He hopes that the Vulcan is at least eating properly, that Jim has enough sense to keep his bondmate fed.

Who's Leonard kidding?

Of course Jim will look after Spock. The kid is the damn sweetest man Leonard has ever met, despite all Kirk's hyperactive faults and misguided ideas.

Leonard McCoy is a fool.

He comes to this realization with a pang. Len should have handled things differently, approached both Jim and Spock like the adult he is, they are, instead of throwing such uncaring words at them. _We have no future._

What the Hell was he thinking?

They were planning a marriage, for Christ's sake. Leonard feels like he has committed the equivalent crime of dumping the bride at the altar. He's been a jerk and a thousand other uncouth things.

Leonard let his fear overwhelm his sense.

In hindsight, he never should have been so blunt. Jim and Spock are owed the truth—the whole of it—and not just a terrible piece that can crush dreams in a matter of minutes. He knows that he has to explain his feelings to them. How can they understand how terrified he is? What marriage means to him?

They are mental patients, for crying out loud. They are people who have, undoubtably, never had a normal relationship. There are no standards or past experience on which they can base their actions; Jim and Spock have only rational thinking (which given their records is supposedly little) and the desire which drives them.

He is a fool, a jerk, AND an ass.

Leonard promises himself that he will try to mend the broken feelings between them all as best as he can (as much as they will allow him to). It's the least he can do before he leaves Fleet Heights for good.

Of course, Len should have remembered that Fate thinks all his plans are a fucking joke because just as he closes his eyes with the resolution to get some decent sleep, his blanket gets ripped off of him.

"What the-?"

"Bones!"

Oh Holy shit. It's Jim. In the middle of the night?

"Spock needs you!"

"Jim, slow down—" He'd be suspicious of this strange encounter—after a week of the silent treatment—except that Jim's face is pale and he has Leonard by the arm and is dragging him out of the room at super-sonic speed.

"What's going on?"

"Spock's really sick and there's no one on shift to help him, Bones, you've got to—"

Leonard blocks out the rest of Jim's babbling because he caught the first three words and that's all he needs to know. Suddenly it's Len dragging Jim as he unswerving steers them past two sharp turns.

Damn it! He doesn't remember which room is Jim's…

"Which one!" he snaps and Jim points to the third on the left.

Spock is curled up in a ball under two layers of blankets as if he's trying to make himself small enough to be invisible. Leonard leans over him, whispers "It's okay" and gently rolls him onto his back. He wipes the sweat from that flushed face and checks his pulse.

"How long has he been like this?"

Kirk is standing there, dumbly (probably feeling helpless). "I don't know. Since I woke up. Maybe longer."

Spock makes a small noise that turns into a rattling cough.

Shit. That sound is bad. Leonard's brain is suddenly very alert, racing through symptoms and diagnoses. He needs more equipment, a stethoscope (at least) to hear his breathing. "Need you to help me get him up, Jim." As they are leveraging the awkward sprawl of Spock's body between them, he asks "Can you break into the nurse's office?"

"Yes."

That's good.

Getting a half-conscious feverish Vulcan down to the first floor is an experience Leonard never wants to repeat. Jim doesn't bother to use his master spy-skills to coax the lock open; rather, the man just kicks it until it breaks open. Len's got no reprimands for that, none at all. There's a sick Spock to take care of, and his mind is already listing out the necessary steps for identifying and treating his condition. (He prays that it isn't developing pneumonia; the wet rattling of the lungs says otherwise.)

They get Spock onto the small cot and Leonard starts tearing through the drawers and tossing out all the supplies he'll need. He takes one quick listen to Spock's breathing and tells Jim "I don't care how you do it. Get EMS here now."

"Bon—"

Hell, there's no time for uncertainty or arguing. "Do it! This isn't a little cold that'll pass, damn you! Spock needs medical attention. Now either make yourself useful saving his life or get the Hell out of my Sickbay!" Later, he'll repeat those incredulous words back to himself and wonder how in tarnation they just popped out of his mouth so glibly.

Jim is gone, to get Pike or help or God knows what.

Leonard turns his attention back to soothing Spock, whose fever is rising dangerously. McCoy doesn't think, just slaps together some concoction from the supply of generic medication in the locked (now broken) cabinet. He doses Spock, winging it without the man's medical records or a list of allergies, and then sets to praying. _God, you owe me this one, you really do._

Not surprisingly, Jim comes back with a promise of help on the way. When the kid hesitates, watching Leonard work, the doctor just points at the end of the bed and says, "It's alright, son. Sit down and hold his hand. Talk to him."

Jim does just that, and the scene that Pike and two red-and-white clothed medics burst in upon is one that they'll never forget. Captain Kirk is applying cold compresses to Spock's chest as he talks quietly while Doctor McCoy supervises. As one medic straps a (surprisingly) calm-faced Mr. Spock to the gurney for transport to the blaring ambulance outside, Leonard gives the other man a list of vitals and medications with which Spock's been treated. He tells the medic what to check for and what to watch on the way to the hospital (as if the trained medic didn't already know—no matter).

When the guy nods and states (rather than asks) "You're a doctor," Leonard replies easily enough, "Yes. I am."

* * *

Pike is gone with the ambulance to see that Spock is situated into the best care and to handle the details of contacting his family. Jim stands inside the entrance to Fleet Heights, watching the ambulance drive away. When Bones makes a sharp movement to his left, he no longer pretends to ignore the man.

"Thank you." McCoy's saved Spock, done what a doctor should.

Bones stares at him for a second, then nods in understanding. "You did the right thing, kid."

Jim shivers and McCoy gently pulls him back into the building, shuts the door against the cold December air. "I should have realized he was sick before, Bones. I should have—"

"All the _if_s, _and_s, and _but_s of the world won't change the past," Bones tells him. "'Sides, you know as well as I do that Spock is good at fooling people."

The man sighs, runs a hand over his face. Jim finally gets a good look at him, at the dark circles under his eyes. His stomach drops. They've all been suffering, haven't they, since that day?

"If you want to blame someone, blame me."

"No, Bones—"

"Yes, Jim. I shouldn't have forced Spock to go outside. It was fucking _raining_. Goes to show how selfish I am."

"You aren't selfish." Even if everything else may be wrong, unsteady between them, Jim knows that this one fact is true.

The smile that Bones gives him is bitter and self-deprecating. "You just don't realize how selfish I am." He halts their slow amble, faces Jim. "What I did tonight, Jim, I want that."

The truth of those words are like a knife in his heart. A wound Kirk finally comprehends that he has to let happen. "I—You're a good doctor, Bones. I'm the one who is selfish, because I want you to stay." He pauses, takes a deep breath. "But how many people can you save, by going?" Suddenly, it all falls into place. James Kirk is truly selfish in his desires.

"Jim…"

"Isn't it a saying… if you love something, you should let it go?"

McCoy's hand comes up to cup his face, a thumb rubbing along his jaw. "Yes," he answers softly.

"I love you, Bones."

The other man's eyes are bright and shining. His fingers trace the curve of Jim's mouth, that trembling mouth that just spoke such tender, honest words. When Bones leans forward and drops a light kiss on his cheek, Jim's eyes fall shut.

"Thank you," his Bones says.

Yes, Jim understands now about love and the breaking of the heart. It isn't loud or full of rage; a heart breaks softly, like the last fragile petal that falls from the winter-worn rose. He accepts that, as Bones leads him back to their room for rest.


	7. The Promise

**The Promise**

* * *

The crew has forgotten the tension between the Captain and the Doctor because the two men have forgotten it (or set it to the side). Now there is only wide-eyed appreciation and talk of Doctor McCoy's magic healing feats. The man waves their words away, tells them to "sit down and shut up, for Christ's sake!"

"But, Doctor McCoy, you've saved Mr. Spock!"

"No I haven't. Spock's still sick, you dimwit."

Chekov blinks innocently at the doctor's back and ignores his words. Pavel turns to Sulu and wants to know, "What about the wedding?"

Sulu drops his fork (katana) and turns to Mr. Scott on his right. "Scotty, the wedding!"

Scotty swallows the peas in his mouth (almost chokes because he forgets to chew). "Losh!" He leans to his right and exclaims, "Lass, what're we gonna do?"

Uhura calmly folds her napkin, waits until Kirk and McCoy trot over to Pike to ask after Spock. "The wedding must go on."

"Yes!" Chekov adds. "For the Keptin and the Doctor!"

Uhura glares him into silence. "No, Pavel, not without Spock." She points Scotty's spoon-clutching hand in the direction of Admiral Pike. "We'll relocate the event to the hospital."

Scotty, surprisingly, looks excited about this piece of news. "We're going on a Christmas trip!" Uhura then allows Pavel to cheer, who nudges at Sulu.

The pilot (having a 6 of a day) seems onboard with the plan. "If you'll provide the coordinates, Pavel," he tells his roommate, "I can get the Enterprise over there by Christmas Eve. It'll require warp-factor three."

Uhura slides from her seat. She runs a hand along Scotty's back, across Sulu's head and tugs at Chekov's ear. "We have all the power we need, boys," she says slyly. "We've got—" she drags her hand from her pocket and jingles her prize, "—keys to the escape shuttle."

* * *

Now Jim knows what it feels like to be depressed. Bones, thankfully, seems glad for his company at night since their third is bed-ridden across town. Jim misses Spock. Even more so, Jim is missing Leonard McCoy, though the man hasn't left him yet.

He shoves another slipper out of the way.

"Jim, what in the world are you doing?"

Kirk makes a noise from under the bed. He's saying "Looking for something."

"What? Goddamn it, come outta there!"

Jim sighs and goes limp on the floor, still halfway ensconced amidst the numerous dust bunnies. He's depressed, Spock is sick, Bones is leaving, and _he can't find their rings_.

Maybe it's just another sign that he was wrong to want this union between the three of them. Maybe it's just God laughing in his face for being deluded and stuck in a mental hospital when he could have been free, as McCoy will be some day.

His daddy's ring was in that box too. Jim ignores the tear trying to escape from his eye. There's a tug on his pants leg and a hand grabbing his calf. Bones pulls him the rest of the way from the desolation of the darkness.

McCoy's on his knees, looking at a prostrate Jim. Jim stares back and says nothing.

"Jim, it's okay. I promise Spock's gonna be alright."

"I know that." The words are hollow to his own ears.

"Then what's the matter?" The doctor grimaces, as if he cannot believe he just said that. Jim really can't believe Bones just said that either. It's obvious what's the matter with him.

Christmas Eve is tomorrow night and the world is falling apart in his hands. (He's letting it break.)

Leonard McCoy does something strange. He stretches out on the floor beside Jim, settles until they are touching shoulder to hip. "Please don't be sad, Jim," Bones begs him. "I know I've hurt you—you and Spock—"

"I just wanted it to work," he confesses. "I really thought that we could be together."

"I'm not ready," the other sighs. "Hell, I don't know if I'll ever be ready. Jocelyn—" There is a pause. Jim reaches over and links their fingers together, squeezes McCoy's. "—she tore something outta me, Jim. Something vital. I know here—" The doctor thumps their joined hands against his chest. "—that I can trust you both, that you wouldn't hurt me for the world but… not here. Not yet." Another lingering touch, against Bones' forehead.

Jim nods. "Even if you did, Bones, we wouldn't be right for you."

"That's not true!" McCoy turns on his side, leans over to look Jim in the face. "I'd be damned lucky to have you two. You are right for me, Jim, don't ever think otherwise."

"But you can't stay at Fleet Heights the rest of your life."

It's McCoy's turn to nod. "Exactly. I don't know why we had to meet like this, why it couldn't have been _out there_." A rueful smile plays along Bones' mouth. Jim squashes the urge to kiss him. "Don't know why it couldn't have been on a starship, out in space."

"Because there are no starships," Jim remarks dryly. "Not yet, anyway."

He likes it when Bones grins with him. He's going to miss that very much. "Bones…" It's said in a soft sigh as he uses his free hand to map McCoy's face. He wants to remember everything, each detail.

"I know, Jim, I know. But for now, I'm right here with you."

He lets the doctor—this man he loved, loves, will always love—pull him from the floor and into a hug. At least this moment between them is tangible, will become a genuine memory. At least Captain Kirk was finally able to have his Doctor McCoy, Jim got Bones, and a dream became a reality.

* * *

Christmas Eve is humming along; everyone—but two—seem alive and cheerful without reason. All day Jim listens (somewhat despondently) to Chekov babble about Russian holiday festivities and how the baby Jesus was born on the icy tundra of northern Russia. No one bothers to correct the little moniker, nor to persuade him to be quiet. The noise is all that Leonard and Jim have to keep their minds off the woeful day.

Leonard cannot stand to look at the calendar on the wall of their room, but Jim wouldn't let him take it down. Len is sick with grief, in his heart, because this day that should have been a cause of celebration will be nothing more than a dreaded day of the year for the rest of his life. He knows that he will never forget Fleet Heights, couldn't if he wanted to. Somehow every person has wormed their way into his heart, filled it up despite that Len thought it was empty. Most of all, there will be mornings when he wakes up alone, when the feeling of being pressed between two others is an echo of tingling nerves. Those times will be the longest.

He thinks he can survive. He knows that he must.

The day passes swiftly into evening. No one makes mention of the lack of wedding vows or that Spock is not among the crew when he should be.

Leonard forgets that he underestimates the insanity of his friends. In fact, when he rounds the corner of the cafeteria—snack in hand for Jim, who won't eat—Scotty is blocking his path and smiling. Leonard takes one look at the wrench, pales and drops the apple. It rolls into a dark corner (later, to be discovered by a Romulan janitor).

"Scotty, what are you doing?"

Scotty keeps on smiling as he advances.

"Mr. Scott—" Len attempts to put some authority in his voice; it comes out as a squeak. "—remember how this ended last time? I need you to put down that wrench."

"Nae, lad, din ye think I'd forgotten?"

Oh shit. Shit shit shit. What does that mean? "No Christmas cookies for you, Scotty!"

The wrench-tapping stops. "But that's not fair, Doctor McCoy."

Jesus God, what the Hell is the matter with the world these days? "We'll discuss it as soon as you—"

"Oh I wasn't gonna hit you, laddie." Scotty blinks at him. "I'm jus'he distraction."

What? McCoy's arms are pinned to his sides and a sharp object pressed into his spine. Sulu says, so menacingly that Len's knees want to knock together, "Don't fight us, Doctor, or you're going to get it."

"What the fuck are ya'll doing! This—" He's dragged down the hall backwards. "Chekov! Let me go."

"Very sorry, Doctor, but the plan must go on. Uhura says so!"

Oh that black-hearted witch. _Wait until he…_ Leonard compiles a very long list of punishments for these fool people. He protests, squirms and gets prodded by rather unpleasant painful things. How they manage to make it out a backdoor without getting caught (Len's complaining loud enough to send help running) he has no fucking clue. In a strange, oil-slick garage (there's a garage?) Leonard is pivoted to face an open van door.

Last chance. Leonard says the first thing that comes to mind. He tells Pavel, quite loudly, "Naughty children don't get gifts from Santa!"

Chekov answers, pouting, as Leonard is shoved into the back of a van, "But I'm being good, Doctor." The door slams shut and Len stares at it. When he attempts to jiggle the handle, it's locked. When he kicks it, cursing, a voice says  
"Don't bother. I think Sulu roped it shut."

"Jim? What the fuck is going on?"

"We're being kidnapped."

McCoy's gaping and he knows it. "Kidnapped?"

"Kidnapped."

Another door opens and closes. There is metal grating that separates the back of the van from the front. Chekov gets into the middle of the front seat, followed quickly by Sulu and Scotty on the right. They call "hello back there!" as they smush together like sardines. There's no one in the driver's seat until…

The driver side door opens and Leonard watches, amazed, as Uhura slides in.

"Hello, Doctor McCoy. Captain. Please buckle up."

"Uhura! You—" She starts the engine and drowns him out. Leonard's heart is beating crazily in his chest as the van lurches out of park. He doesn't say another word for fear of distracting the insane Uhura and having 'em all crash into the garage wall.

"Bones?" Jim sounds uncertain.

"Oh, Len, please untie Jim."

What? Leonard crawls over, feels around. Well shit. Apparently this van isn't just for transporting equipment; it's for crazy patients too. Jim smiles at him sheepishly, strapped to the wall of the van.

Goddamn it. Leonard cannot be rid of these maniacs too soon! As he fights with the buckles, he asks "Where are we going?"

Jim shrugs, then calls out, "Hey! Where are we going?"

Uhura answers calmly enough, "To your wedding."

"Nyota," Len tries for reason, "Nobody's getting married today."

"Well, not on the Enterprise, Leonard, you silly man. Mr. Spock isn't there. So we're going to Spock."

Oh God. Mental patients on the loose in Atlanta Christmas Eve traffic. Leonard starts calling in every favor God owes him.

"Do you even know where he is?"

"Sure. Atlanta General. Been there lots of times."

Scotty pipes in, "Uhura was born on this planet."

The whimpering is not at all feigned. Jim must take pity on Leonard because he tries to tell him it'll be okay, they aren't going to die. "Uhura knows these streets like the back of her hand."

"She's crazy, Jim."

Kirk makes a dismissive noise.

"And who's going to be insane enough to let us in the hospital. We're dressed like fucking mental patients. JIM!" Leonard is getting hysterical, but he cannot stop himself. "_We are mental patients, you idiot!_"

Unfortunately, there are no comforting words Jim can offer. So Leonard lets him continue the petting and attempts a breathing exercise in the mean-time.

The drive is long, nerve-wracking, and possibly the craziest experience of his life.

That is, until they actually manage to get inside Atlanta General Hospital in one piece. (Why Leonard doesn't rat them out as soon as he and Jim are released, he'll never know. There are just too many of the crazies and not enough Leonards to stop them all.)

The hitch in Uhura's plan comes when they file (stumble, what a nightmare; poor Jim, so claustrophobic) out of the elevator onto Spock's floor. Uhura is waving around her get-well card like a ticket to a local rodeo; apparently she convinced the Admiral she needed Spock's room number to write on the front of the card. Poor stupid Pike, Len thinks. He's going to be berating himself for this little fiasco for years to come.

The nurse says yes, Mr. Spock—Leonard purposefully ignores the recited last name because Spock will always be just Spock to him—has been cleared from ICU days ago but no, visiting hours are over.

Len isn't surprised in the least when Jim slides to the front to sweet talk the nurse. That, of course, takes a matter of minutes. Certainly Nurse Rand can make an exception for Spock's… long-lost cousins. Of course, she understands, seeing how it's Christmas Eve and all, and she—he—is lonely in the hospital on this lovely holiday.

Rand leads them down the hall and points at a room. "There you go, sugar." She giggles at Kirk and waggles her fingers. "I'll be at the reception desk, should y'all need me."

* * *

A familiar voice drifts to Spock's ears and he carefully raises his bed. The Vulcan is as dignified as can be when the Enterprise troop comes into his Sickbay room. Chekov attempts to carol his way in, but Lieutenant Uhura prompts shuts him up with "Pavel, hush! There're sick people here!"

He decides that he must save the navigator's fragile human feelings. "While you are correct, Nyota, I suspect that the other occupants of Sickbay would be most grateful for… Mr. Chekov's holiday cheer." His voice is rough, from the coughing, but given his Vulcan stamina, Spock estimates that he shall be back to his duties in another four point three days.

The Captain catches his attention as Kirk comes around to the other side to touch him (without the hindrance of medical equipment). Spock holds up the two appropriate fingers and Jim returns to the kiss.

"I admit that I am… pleased to see you, Captain."

"Same, Mr. Spock." Kirk sits down gingerly on his bed. He looks over Spock, towards the door and says "C'mon, Bones."

Spock watches Leonard McCoy cautiously separate himself from the group and approach them. "Spock."

With a tilt of his head, the Vulcan acknowledges, "Doctor McCoy. I owe you my life."

That makes the doctor scowl—a comfort, though Spock's Vulcan brain would never admit so. "I didn't do anything but make Jim call Pike."

He raises an eyebrow. "You have an illogical habit of modesty, Doctor."

That scowl deepens and Leonard bends down to eye him. "Put it down, Spock."

His eyebrow goes higher. When the doctor curses, Spock allows his face to settle back into its serene proportions.

"Okay!" There is a clap of hands, quickly followed by three other pairs of clapping hands. Uhura directs Scotty to the opposite end of the end. "Since Admiral Pike was detained," Uhura smiles wickedly, "and shall be unable to officiate our union, Mr. Scott has volunteered to take his place."

Jim clears his throat. "Uhura, I should have said something sooner, I'm sorry—"

Spock watches, fascinated, as Doctor McCoy lays his hand over Jim's (which is over Spock's) "—but Jim-boy here forgot to tell you that Spock was doing the proposing. So… no proposing, no marriage."

Uhura closes her mouth and frowns at the trio.

Spock has had a long time (alone, once well) to think of their situation. He came to a decision and knows that his mother, Amanda, would want him to honor it. "Leonard," Spock begins. "I have given many hours of meditation to your concerns and your… words."

"Spock," the Captain interrupts, "it's okay…"

"Jim, if you will allow me to finish." His bondmate goes silent, accepting, for now. "Doctor McCoy, you must not fear to love another. It is in every man's heart to love. Jim and I wish to grant you the gift of ours."

"I can't stay forever." The Vulcan senses the sadness which radiates from the doctor.

"Yes, I understand. Your dream is not bound to one place, as Jim's dream is, as my own is. You are free to go; do not feel that our love holds you from living. It does not. It goes with you, wherever you must travel." Spock reaches out, touches Leonard's face. "I request only that you accept that which we wish to give you, for as long as destiny grants us."

There are teardrops on his fingers. He collects them quietly, holds onto them.

"Okay."

Jim, his other, leans over their hands and places a kiss first on Leonard's, then Spock's. "That's all I want," he says quietly.

Their moment is broken by Chekov wiping his eyes and nose on the sleeve of his roommate's shirt, which Sulu protests immediately. Uhura gives them all a wobbly smile and pulls out a box from Scotty's robe pocket.

"Here, Captain."

Jim's eyes are wide as he takes the box. Leonard's eyes get wider when Jim flips off the lid and pulls out a ring. Spock is satisfied. "You may begin, Mr. Scott, when you are ready," he tells the engineer/preacher.

Spock takes his ring from Jim as Leonard holds his own in trembling hands. It is smooth, gleaming in the light. His eyes identify an engraving along the inside: _with this, my love, parted from me and never parted_.

It is appropriate, it is poetic. It is a reminder of that which endures beyond separation, heartache, time and flesh.

Spock slides the ring onto his finger as Scotty sets an impromptu wedding into motion. Then he catches Leonard's eyes and takes the ring from the doctor's palm, utters "Parted from us and never parted" and slips it in place, securely covering the faint white (tanning) band left on Leonard's finger.

He watches, as Jim does, the doctor stare at it, twist the band once (as if checking to make sure that it is really there), before Jim pulls McCoy's hand away and kisses its knuckles.

It is a long moment (Scotty droning on about eternal love) until Leonard McCoy tells them, voice thick, "Considering the mess of trouble we're in, I imagine Destiny's gonna grant us a very long time together."

Spock does not smile (he does not need to). "This is a certainty on which I depend, Doctor."

Jim laughs, Leonard gives a heart-felt (trembling) sigh, and Spock accepts both with an open heart.

_-Fini_

**

* * *

**

This sequel is dedicated in memoriam to _easilymused1956_. Renee, this one's for you. Miss you, hon.


End file.
